


Equivalence

by Kuukkeli



Series: Miscellaneous [1]
Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Comfort, Drunkenness, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 00:06:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3269351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kuukkeli/pseuds/Kuukkeli
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bottled-up emotions? Molotov's Cocktail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Equivalence

**Author's Note:**

> I donno what I just wrote... Honestly. : [

He felt awful. He felt exhausted. He felt like collapsing. He wanted to scream. To break things. To let it all out. And this had been going on for several days now. Drift had asked many times if he was okay. No. He wasn’t ‘okay’. Far from it. In fact, this was by far the most not-okay he felt in years. But he couldn’t get himself to voice it. He just couldn’t.

And that scared him. It scared him that if and when he’d speak up his mind, he’d say something irreversible and something he’d regret later. He tried meditation but it didn’t work. He tried sparring – no effect. Nothing that normally would ease his troubled mind didn’t help. Things weren’t well for him. At all.

“So what’s the big deal with you?” Drift asked as he stepped outside on the balcony to accompany the white mech.

Wing remained silent and continued to stare at nothing really. His optics were hazy from staring into distance.

“Wing? C’mon. Drift to Wing.”

Drift was getting frustrated with Wing’s strange behavior and huffed. “Fine. Be that way, then.” He was about to go back inside when the jet swirled around and ruffled his plating, wings flared out and the flaps on his nacelles up and taut, his field downright smacking against Drift.

“Why can’t you appreciate anything I’ve done to you?! I took you under my wing voluntarily as no one else wanted you! I’ve taken punishments for you! Why can’t you show some gratitude to me?!”

Wing’s sudden outburst took Drift by surprise, the grounder flinching at the harsh voice and the accusations thrown at him. Wha–? Nothing prepared him what came next.

“Sometimes I wish I never met you...”

The shock that was caused by the words was visible on both of their faces and fields. Wing’s field pulsated and was then pulled tightly against his body. Neither said anything and the jet pushed past Drift to leave the apartment, their shoulders bumping together.

The bi-colored mech was left alone. He was both pissed off and sorry. Pissed off at himself and sorry for Wing. Why everything he was involved had to go to Hell and bite him in the aft tenfold? Why couldn’t he change and be a decent and normal Cybertronian like everybody else here? Why he had to destroy everything nice?

Gripping the railing and squeezing it until his knuckles hurt, the grounder growled and let go. His mind started racing on disappearing, escaping this place so Wing wouldn’t have to see his ugly face ever again. So he would have peace from herding the bi-colored mech all the times. So Wing would live his life like he had before Drift had come in and ruined everything.

Drift leaned over the railing and looked down. The apartment was on eighth floor and it was a long drop down. He wouldn’t survive without severe injuries and the noise that he’d cause would alert mechs to come and check. So he let the thought slip away.

The apartment was empty and quiet. The forenoon turned into afternoon and there were no signs of Wing returning. The day crawled onwards and slowly turned into evening. Drift was still alone. He had tried to occupy himself by watching TV and reading but he couldn’t concentrate. He didn’t like to admit he was worried. Where was Wing?

He stayed up late until his body messaged him about low energy levels. He grabbed a cube and after downing it in one go, he retired and went to berth. His thoughts ran 1000 m/h and he had to force his mind to shut up. Eventually he relaxed and fell into recharge.

It was well over midnight, probably very early in the morning, when the apartment door swooshed open and a roaring drunk jet staggered in, extending his arms to get support from the walls. He smacked his knee on a sideboard, cursing under his breath as the sharp pain lit up his sensor net. His optics flickered between white and dim yellow as he tried to navigate his way through the living room, to the berthroom and finally to the wash rack. Once in the wash rack, his tank churned and he fell on his knees, purging the insides of his tank. Luckily the door was closed...

Drift was stirred from his recharge by a low squeak (at this point Wing had hit the sideboard) but remained on his side, his back turned to the room. He listened to the noises as the white mech shuffled past him, keeping his field neutral (a trick he had learned from Wing; one could cheat the other to think they’re asleep but in reality, they’re wide awake).

When he heard the retching noises from the wash rack, Drift got up and walked to the closed door. The knight was trying to purge his tank out – or that’s what it sounded like.

The jet’s tank cramped and he clutched his stomach, thick, sticky trails of shuttle high grade cluttered slime hanging from his lips as he dry heaved the residues from the bottom of his tank. He hadn’t registered the sound of a door opening nor the soft footsteps that ended up next to him.

“Seems like you got yourself hammered pretty well”, Drift murmured, stroking the shivering back gently. “Gonna feel that in the morning.”

Wing merely groaned as a gurgling burb bubbled up and a new, though smaller, wave of nausea hit him, a tiny flood of mucus and semi-processed high grade splattering on the tiled floor.

“I... I’m... I’m s-sorry”, he managed to slur, “I’m s-so sorry for my immature behavior a-and my cruel wo–”, a burb interrupted his sentence, “words. I didn’t mean what I said. I–”

“I’m also sorry. I was being a fragger and not taking your... emotions into account. I promise I’ll appreciate you from now on.” Oh, frag. He wasn’t good at apologizing and slag like that. He felt utterly embarrassed and out of his comfort zone.

To hide his awkwardness, Drift fetched a clean cloth and started wiping Wing’s mouth to get rid of the filth he had managed to spew pretty much all over his mouth. He then threw the cloth to a bin to be cleaned later and helped Wing to stand up. The white mech tottered and Drift wrapped his arm around his waist and walked him to the berth.

Finally lying down, the knight rolled to his side and scooted a little to make room for the other mech. The invitation was taken gladly and the grounder closed Wing into a warm, tight embrace.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you”, Wing mumbled meekly, ashamed for his un-knightly behavior.

“It’s all right. You have the right to speak up your mind as much as I do. You should do it more and not act like everything’s fine all the time.”

Wing nodded against the broad chest, tugging his head properly under the bi-colored mech’s chin.

“I guess I’m not going to be happy in the morning, huh”, the white mech chuckled softly after a moment.

“I won’t be in your way then.”

That earned two sets of weary laughter which faded away as both mechs closed their optics and let recharge claim them.


End file.
